The blood of those betrayed
by Kitty Johns
Summary: Imaratioel is an elf with a horrible past and killer hobbies. What happens when she and her family find Legolas, Estel, Elladan, and Elrohir? Let the angsh begin! New chappie! Here come the answers!
1. Imarátoiel the betrayed

The blood of those betrayed

Not all elves are happy.

Not all elves have bright spirits.

Not all elves live for life.

Imarátoiel is one of them.

She lives for death.

She lives for battle.

She lives for hope.

She lives...

...or dose she?

Chapter one: Imarátoiel, the betrayed

The young girl woke from her sleep. A dark, dreadful sleep, as usual. Her white hair glistened in the firelight, adding to her beauty.

For many, this beauty was the last thing they saw.

She stood, a shadow enveloping her slender figure.

Typical...

Her black eyes flitted around her, checking if there was anything to kill.

Nothing.

Not even a spider.

Good.

They were finally leaving her alone.

More time for swordplay.

This night, as the only time she rose out of sleep and thought was night, was a freezing, ice cold winter night.

There was a blizzard raging outside, and the caves that she and her few comrades resided in was a warm escape from the snow.

Their fire was blazing in the hearth, with a deer on the spit, being carefully tended for their dinner.

Pellagollo was watching it, sharpening his sword.

Nevulmaiel was in a bunk close to the ceiling, still sleeping off the rest of the healing herbs that had been used for her side.

But not all of them were present.

Not all of The Betrayed were in their cavernous home.

Zimraâruo was no longer there, the captain as he was, he still was killed by those bloody, stupid, arrogant, thick skulled elves.

Four of the blood-thirsty killers that still lived, or the Betrayed, as they called themselves, now were resting from their last fight, tending to their hurts.

Poor Alakthonion lay on the floor next to the hearth on a soft pallet of furs and pillows that they had stolen or made. He was half dead, and would die soon. He was Imarátoiel's brother.

It hurt her to look at him. His side had been torn open, spilling half his blood, his back, legs, left knee, and left arm were broken, along with probably all his ribs, yet he still clung to life. It was a miracle that he had survived the day.

There were footsteps coming from down the hall.

Odd.

Imarátoiel and her family walked so lightly that they would never make a sound, unless on purpose or if they were heavily laden.

Their scout might have found prisoners.

Maybe the elves that escaped the battle.

Sure enough, Nusangaiel and Táraundomewen came down the hall, their footsteps heavy as they each dragged one form and another was hefted over their broad shoulders.

"Look what we found! It seems that we have visitors!"

Imarátoiel stood, and took one of the limp bodies from Táraundomewen, dragging it to a far wall of their home, clapping his hands and feet in strong iron chains. She took the chains and pulled the ones for his arms far apart, hooking them to the wall so that he could not get up. She tied a rag over his eyes to keep him from seeing when he woke up.

Imarátoiel looked over to the other side of the room, seeing that her friends were in the process of doing the same with the others.

But when Nusangaiel took the hood off of one's face, she gasped, seeing that this prisoner was in fact, a human.

Imarátoiel placed a hand on her shoulder. "This changes nothing. He still trespassed on our lands, and for that, he shall be punished, as shall the rest." She said, pointing in turn to the other three, looking on each of their faces.

One had golden hair and his features were fair.

Another, the man, had raven hair.

But the two left looked almost exactly alike.

"Looks like we have twin Noldo! What, might I ask, do we do with them?" she smiled an evil smile at the two dark haired elves.

"I know what we should do to those Noldor fools!!" Pellagollo said, standing up, hands on his hips.

"Then do it, please, and refresh our memory!" Imarátoiel said, pretending to have forgotten.

Pellagollo went to one of the two, gagging him with an old cloth, and stomped on his leg, snapping it.

Poor, poor elf and human dudes. You will find out who they are in the next chappie. I promise. Until then, you will have to wait. Review, please!!! I love feedback! If you don', you won't find out that the prisoners are...


	2. Waking to a Nightmare

Chapter 2: Waking to a Nightmare

The young elf woke up. His head was sore like something had hit it. He tried to rub it with his hand, but realized that he couldn't.

His hands and feet were in iron bonds that much he could tell.

And he couldn't see.

There was a rag wrapped around his eyes.

He was in a cave, he guessed, for there was no wind on his face, and the wall he was chained to was rough rock, not cut or anything in any way, just like the floor. He sat in a puddle of cold water that he heard dripping from a not so distant place.

The little light he could see form the edge of his vision came from a fire, a far way away.

It was a deep red, indicating that it was dieing.

He stirred, truing to stand up, but by the way that his hands were tied he couldn't move.

As he struggled, he heard someone laugh.

He tested the voice.

It was not orcish, which surprised him.

Who else could have captured him?

"You will do yourself no good by struggling, little Goldie-locks."

He listened to the voice.

It belonged to a woman.

If that wasn't surprising enough, it belonged to an elf.

He was sure.

The fair tone, melodious notes, and calm voice.

Surprising.

"Who are you?!?! What have you done?! Why have you captured us?!" he cried.

The woman laughed. "You ask too many questions! I shall show you where you are. You don't have to worry."

After a few moments, he felt someone grab his hair and yank it back.

He felt a rag being stuffed in his mouth.

And after that, his captor untied the cloth that covered his eyes.

The elf looked up, seeing a harmless looking maiden in outlandish apparel.

He looked around the cave, seeing the other three prisoners.

The man looked perfectly fine to his eyes.

But not the other two.

Their legs were bent at unnatural angles, defiantly broken.

Cuts and gashes were everywhere on their bodies.

In the little light of the fire, he could only hope that the pools of liquid that had formed around the two of them were water.

But he highly doubted it.

He looked up to the satisfied maiden with angry eyes.

She laughed.

"I ask only one favor of you." She said in a mock-innocent tone.

He continued to glare at her.

"I will take that rag out of your mouth if you will tell me your name, and the rest of theirs are as well. If not, then..." she drew a knife from her boot. "...I will leave you to figure out what I will do." She looked at the two that she had already tortured.

He nodded, a single tear rolling down his cheek into the puddle.

"Good," she said, taking the rag out.

She stood; ready to walk to the tortured elves if necessary.

"Who is he?" she asked, pointing to the human.

"His name is Estel," the prisoner said quietly.

"Good. Him?" she pointed to the elf in the farthest corner.

"Elladan," he spoke even more quietly.

"Him?"

"Elrohir,"

"And what of you, Goldie-locks?"

"Legolas."

"Interesting names. I believe that you will be glad to hear that you and the human are of no importance to us. What, exactly, brought you to the cave home of the Betrayed?" she asked, her sweet voice becoming harsh.

"We were looking for a place to wait out the sudden blizzard, and we found a cave, hoping to wait the storm out here,

"And what about my other companions? What do you want with them?"

"Tell me, do they have any Noldo blood in them?"

Legolas was cautious. "Why?

The woman took a few steps over to the twins.

"Yes, a little, I guess."

"Then they will stay here."

"Why?!"

"We hate the Noldor," another voice said from some of the shadows near him. There was a darker shadow in it all.

"Why do you hate the Noldor?" Legolas asked.

"Why do we not?" another voice said.

"Why would you?" Legolas said, hoping no new voices would come.

"I SAY FO MY SISTER AGAIN, WHY DO WE NOT ?!?!?!" still another voice said, defiantly irritated when she yanked Legolas to his feet, dragging him up by his hair.

"Nusangaiel, calm down. Don't blow your top. Again," the white-haired maiden said. "Well, anyway, Goldie-locks, you should be getting back to sleep."

The maiden threw him to the ground.

Legolas heard, and felt, something snap in the process.

"Do you really think that I will go asleep on command?" Legolas said when he regained his breath.

"No, we don't," the first maiden said. "But you are in no position to refuse, Goldie-locks."

She nodded to two others, taking a water skin.

As the others held him down, the woman forced him to swallow something. It tasted horrible. And it was slightly gritty.

"It's poisoned!" he said after he finished gagging.

"Not poisoned, it is a sleeping potion," the maiden said.

Legolas felt a great weariness come upon him. His eyes wouldn't stay open any more.

Strange.

He never slept with his eyes closed unless he had been badly hurt.

Was he hurt?

He couldn't tell.

He couldn't feel his limbs any more.

His head dropped to his chest.

Before he was completely asleep, he heard the hysterical laugh of his captors.

_You will pay _he thought. _You will..._

Then he dropped off into a blank sleep, with no dreams to comfort him.

Dudes, I might not be updating that often cuz when I get algebra(and that's every day) I get a LOT of algebra. Don't u hate homework?

REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!!! ME LOVESES FEEDBACKSSESS!!!! REVIEWS!!! MY PRECIOUSSESS!!! WAHOO!!!

Yikes! I shouldn't hang out with Nick so often.


	3. Answers to questions

Chapter 3: Answers to questions

"Glorfindle, they were supposed to have gotten back a week ago! Of course I'm worried!"

"Elrond, calm down. We will find them, I can promise you that."

"Well, where were they last spotted?"

"Just near the boarders of Mirkwood."

"Well, that figures," Elrond said, slowing down slightly.

"We will have search parties looking for them as soon as possible, mellon nin.

"How do you know?"

"Because we have to..."

Legolas awoke again, in the same position as he was when he fell asleep. _Oh, wonderful. So it wasn't a dream. _He was surprised that none of his captors were presently tormenting him or the others.

Legolas looked around at the rest of the cave. Elladan and Elrohir were still lying like their legs were broken, and against all of Legolas' hopes, the pools around them were not water, as they were soaked in blood.

Estel still looked fine.

But the fire was burning brightly.

Next to it, there were two figures. One on a pallet, the other hunched over next to him, doing something that her back hid.

There was a weak whimper from that direction, and a reply:

"Hush, brother. Do not worry. I will not let you go. You are all that I have left since Zimraâruo was killed by that horrible elf that claims to be king over this land. Remember when we lived in peace in Doriath? When Ammë and Atar were still alive? It will be like that once again. When we fulfill our oath to them as they lay dieing on the cold ground. Forgotten by all others but us Betrayed. We will fulfill our oath. We will. I promise you, Alakthonion, my dear brother, we will fulfill it. We will. We have to. We have to...." She dissolved into tears.

After she regained her self, she finished, "I wish he had never done this to you. I wish no one had ever done this to you. I wish Ammë and Atar were here, and that we lived in peace, not being chased down and pushed away by all others, mainly our own kindred."

Legolas stared in wonder. This was the cruel woman who had captured him and his friends! She had no heart! Or did she? Was she just saying that? Was she telling the truth? Was she?

Both him and his captor were roused by a pathetic moan over to the left.

"Shut up, half breed!" the woman said, slowly getting up from her brother and walking over to Elladan.

Not good.

Elladan rarely showed pain.

He only did when he was hurt seriously.

Very seriously...

The woman kicked Elladan's leg and he cried out in agony.

"Imarátoiel, try to keep it down, some of us like to sleep, you know," a voice said.

"Yeah, Imma," another said, more groggily than the first.

"All right, Nevulmaiel. All right, Pellagollo."

"Well, I'm up, anyways," a third voice said. It was strong and sweet. Almost queen-like.

A dark-headed elf jumped from a hole in the ceiling, not caring for the ladder that she could have used, landing on her feet and walking to Imarátoiel.

"What's for breakfast?" she asked.

"Leftovers, I guess," Imarátoiel said, shrugging her shoulders.

"You didn't make anything?"

"No."

"Why?"

Imarátoiel sighed and looked over to her brother.

"Oh...how dose he fare?"

"Not well...he could probably go at any time. I just hope he doesn't."

Imarátoiel fell silent, staring at the elf.

"Don't worry. He will be alright."

"How do you know?"

"Because he has to! And I pray to Eru that he will be."

Dudes, review. EVRYONE REVIEWEN ON MY HALO STORY!!! ARGH!!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?!?! THIS STORY WILL NOT CONTINUE IF U DON''T!!!


	4. Suffering all around

Chapter 4: Suffering all around

Glorfindle was riding hard.

He had to find them.

He wouldn't let anything happen to them.

Not now.

He and the other members of his search party had been riding like mad men to the place that the twins, Estel, and Legolas had last been seen. As they entered the gates of the small city, he and the other riders pulled to a halt.

Blood was splattered all over the streets, walls, and buildings.

Some of the buildings were charred and burnt.

It was nearly silent but for the elves that were joylessly working on fixing and cleaning up.

A taller elf in the armor of a warden came up to Glorfindle and bowed. His arm was in bandages in a sling.

"What happened?" Glorfindle said, dismounting.

"_They_ came."

Legolas was still sitting still, listening to the conversation of his captors. Most of it was of no interest to him, but he was trying to learn all he could about their origin and reasons for ransacking the towns of innocent villagers.

They hated anything that moved: elf, orc, spider, man, dwarf, most all animals, that much was plainly clear.

Legolas had witnessed some torture of the twins, but he couldn't stand seeing what they did for to long, and he tried to pry his eyes away, but found that he couldn't.

They were in to much pain.

He wished he could do something, but he knew he couldn't.

He also knew that his own leg was broken. He was sure.

Those elves made sure that they didn't kill the twins, and they even expertly treated any wound that was to serious, if only to keep them alive for further torment.

The white haired maiden, Imarátoiel, had stopped joining in with the "fun" and had begun to stay with her brother, putting him above all of her needs. She was so intent on him that she hadn't eaten for what Legolas was sure had been days.

Still, they hadn't touched Estel, as far as Legolas knew. They were never awake together, so Legolas couldn't be s sure.

"Well, today marks that they have been here a week, Imma. What should we do now?" one of the elves said, cleaning his blade.

"I think that we might be getting rid of the blond and the human tonight. Wake them up, Táraundomewen," Imarátoiel said.

The dark haired girl nodded and went over to Estel, kicking him in the side, bringing him into abrupt consciousness. He stared up at her, angry.

She just laughed and walked over to Legolas.

"I've been awake; you don't have to kick me!!!" Legolas said as Táraundomewen got ready to boot him too.

Everyone was silent. Táraundomewen looked to Imarátoiel.

"I think that we should give our eavesdropper his just deserts," Imarátoiel said angrily. "What say you, my friends?"

"Aye," Pellagollo said, standing up and walking to a chest.

Imarátoiel stopped him. "I would like to do this, Pella."

He reluctantly nodded.

She looked over to him and her friends, and they all walked toward Legolas.

Aragorn was shocked, but he knew what was about to happen. He hadn't seen the Betrayed torture anyone before. And he didn't want to. But he knew that he didn't have anything to say about it.

The elves walked over to Legolas, not-so-gently taking his arms and legs out of the iron shackles, pouring something down his throat.

After he had swallowed most of this liquid, Legolas went as limp as a wet rag. One of the elves flung him over his shoulder and brought him to a large, tall stone, near the middle of the cavern that was flat on one side.

Iron shackles were at the top, not so far apart.

"Why did you put him to sleep before you tortured him?" Aragorn said, sounding like a smart-aleck.

"He isn't asleep, fool. He just can't move. He will be forced to endure this without being able to flinch, try to pull away, or do anything," Imarátoiel said, looking through the trunk, pulling out things that she would need.

Aragorn looked at them.

A few daggers, a whip, a chain, many more things.

He flinched for his friend.

Legolas himself couldn't see what was going on. He could feel himself being put into shackles once more, yes, but he couldn't move. He had no wonder what they would do.

"Don't bother gagging him," Imarátoiel said. "It will be no matter if he wakes up the other two. They will just share his pain."

She stood, picking up the whip, and smiled cruelly.

She looked down at her brother. "This is for you," she said, and she lashed out with the whip.

"Where is it? We have to know! If they did capture them, than there is no other way that we will get them back!"

"I am sorry, my lord, but none of us dare pass there. We can't show you! Not even with a hundred men could you do it! They are too experienced in mind and body!"

"Are you saying that we can't fight?"

Glorfindle was arguing with the warden to send someone to help them find the place that the boys were hidden.

"No, but I am saying that they can, and _do_ like cornered wolves!"

"We will go any way, no mater what. We can't let them die."

"If any of them have Noldo blood in them, they might well be dead by now."

Glorfindle was shocked at this. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that they hate the Noldor. Can't stand them. They torture them to no end and then send them to horrible deaths."

"Why do they do this?" he asked.

"We don't know," the warden said.

Glorfindel bowed his head in silent thought for quite a while.

"You have to show us where they are," he said at last.

"No," the warden said.

Glorfindle lifted his head. Tears rolled down his cheeks. "Please..."

Legolas was literally screaming for mercy as the whip was yanked away again and again, tearing at his previously fair skin.

She had been doing this for so long! Surely there wasn't any skin left to tear away!

Little did he know that the twins had awoken to his cries, and that each of his companions now stared at him, tears pouring out of their eyes.

Legolas' back was literally being torn apart. Blood ran down to form a pool at the feet of his tormentor, and they could tell that she would not end anytime soon.

But then she stopped.

Was this the end of his anguish?

Legolas heard her walk away. Then he felt the sound of the whip being dropped onto the ground.

Legolas sighed in relief.

But Imarátoiel heard.

"Don't you start thinking that I'm done yet, Legolas!" she hissed.

Legolas let out a weak whimper.

"I won't stop until there is nothing left to break but your skull!"

Then Legolas felt a fist slam into his side.

He felt some of his already weak and cracked ribs brake.

He cried out again, but stopped, hardly able to breath, screaming or not.

Imarátoiel moved to his other side and did the same.

Her mithril-gloved left hand was no help.

She continued to punch him for hours, rarely ceasing. At least, it felt like hours.

Finally an end came.

Legolas waited for another strike.

But it never came.

Legolas was heaving in breath, as was Imarátoiel.

"Imma," came the unusually quiet voice of Pellagollo.

"What!?"

"We need to go hunting tonight. Our stores are empty," he replied, looking and feeling somewhat small in front of the bloody maiden.

"All right," she replied.

"Go ahead and get your bow. It will be sunset soon enough. All of us are going except Nevulmaiel, because her side is not fully healed."

The Betrayed got ready to leave, and Nevulmaiel made herself comfortable, sitting next to Alakthonion.

She bade her family farewell and, when they were out of the cave for sure, she turned to Legolas.

"I am sorry, Legolas, honestly," she said.

"Oh, sure you are! You stood and watched the entire thing, smiling!" Estel said.

"I didn't want them to get suspicious of anything, even though I would do nothing, anyway!"

Every one remained silent, willing her to continue.

"She has never been that harsh on a prisoner before, I swear..."

"Thank you for doing this, young man," Glorfindle whispered to the boy who had agreed to show them to the cave entrance.

"Don't worry," he said. "They usually go out hunting on this tonight."

The entire company grew silent as they saw four elves walk from the cave. When they were out of earshot, the boy continued. "That's odd; there were more of them I thought!"

Glorfindle looked at him uneasily.

The boy thought for a moment. "Oh yeah, two of them were wounded. One of them we thought dead, but he was rescued by another."

"There is no time to waste, let's go and get them."

Glorfindel's party murmured approval.

They dropped from the trees and made their way into the cave.

_Please be all right _Glorfindle thought as the tunnel enveloped him in shadow.

K, dudes. Review, or I will set rabid bunny rabbits after you, just like in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I am serious. Honest to God, damn right, SERIOUS!!!!

Not!


	5. Ai, Eru, Grant Me Mercy

**Ok, another chappie. Hope you like. **

**Helluin-trip: wow. That's...uh...frightening... **

**invisigoth2:Hey! I only said if u didn't review! But you did! So, no evil bunny! **

**Storm Singer: ok, hope I can get descriptive enough.**

**And everybody else: I'm updating! Wahooo!!!**

Chapter 5: Ai, Eru, grant me mercy

Glorfindle halted his company. He heard voices ahead, but only faintly. He strained his ears to hear them.

"...I have been thinking of going away from the oath. Thinking that I might be able to make a normal life somehow. But I doubt it. No one would have accepted me, and I don't think that I could get into a "normal" life in which my first priority was to not be touched or befriended by other elves! Ai, Elbereth! I just don't know what to do!"

"Don't worry, Nevulmaiel. We will think of something. I guess I understand why you all fight and kill so much. Maybe you and the others aren't criminals and murderers."

"I hope so, but that king will never forgive us! He will never let us live!"

Then there was a silence. Muffled sobbing was heard.

"Nevulmaiel, don't worry. We will do the best we can."

Glorfindle knew the voice, and he drew his sword, followed by the rest of the company.

He slowly walked foreword into the cavern, and what he saw surprised him.

A golden-headed maiden was bent over, holding a key, next to Estel's foot. When she sensed the presence of another, she dropped the key and spun around, sword drawn, standing up, facing her opponent.

"Glorfindle!" Estel cried, beaming.

"Estel! What has happened?"

Estel tried to stand, but his foot was still in the iron. "Nevulmaiel, would you-"

"Oh, right. Sorry," she said, reluctantly sheathing her sword and bending over, unlocking the iron. She pulled him up and he nearly ran to Glorfindle.

When Estel reached the elf, he buried his face in his shoulder, letting a few tears to escape his eyes.

But then he remembered where he was, and pulled away reluctantly, frowning.

"What is it?" Glorfindle asked.

"It is the others." He turned to Nevulmaiel, who had a large key ring in her hand. She was busily taking certain keys off, glancing uneasily at Glorfindle. "Don't worry, Nevulmaiel. He is a friend."

"I doubt that any friend of yours is a friend of mine," she mumbled, a hint of fear in her rock solid voice.

"Don't worry. Nothing will happen to you. You have shown too much kindness," Estel said, walking over to her, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. She took one step backward, defiantly frightened at the many other elves that came in through the tunnel.

She held out two large keys, and when Estel took them, she quickly pulled her hand away. "Those are for him," she said, pointing to Elladan.

Glorfindle gasped. He hadn't seen him before. Estel and Nevulmaiel, as Estel called her, went to separate corners, yet Glorfindle discerned that Nevulmaiel hesitated before she began to walk. At first, Glorfindle didn't see why Nevulmaiel was going to the corner, for he could see nothing in it at first. He looked closely and noticed someone in the shadows.

"Wake up," Nevulmaiel whispered into its ear. The figure didn't move. Nevulmaiel unlocked all the chains, his limbs falling limply to the side. She maneuvered him to a laying position and slid her arms underneath of him, lifting him slowly. He could see that Estel had already done the same. With the tips of her fingers, she pulled her hood a little farther over her eyes and face so that he wouldn't see them if he woke up.

She walked out of the shadows, and Glorfindle saw who she was carrying. He saw the blood dripping from him, all of his cuts, and new that his legs were broken. He had Elladan in his arms, but he wanted to sit down and hold both of the twins close, like he did when they were tiny elflings.

Nevulmaiel wanted to put the elf down or to give him to someone else, but she didn't want to touch the others. No mater what Estel said, they were still elves, and they could still kill her if she wasn't careful. She finally, reluctantly, walked over to Estel and gave the elf to him, rather than another elf.

One of the elves asked Estel about this. "She is afraid of elves, though she is one," he said, hading his brother to another.

Nevulmaiel looked at him and cocked her head to the side in direction of a large stone.

"Estel, where is Legolas?" Glorfindle asked, handing Elladan over to someone else.

Estel's frown deepened.

"We will need help to get him."

"Why?"

"Come," Estel said, taking Glorfindel's hand.

Glorfindle followed. When he saw the young prince, he could hardly bear it. He looked angrily at Nevulmaiel, who at the slightest eye contact, she began to step backwards, slowly drawing her sword.

Estel laid a hand on Glorfindel's stiff shoulder. "I you frighten her now, then we will never get her back," he said, his tone desperate.

Glorfindle heaved a heavy sigh. "Alright, then. Nevulmaiel, may we have the key?"

She didn't move.

"Nevulmaiel, please?" Estel tried.

She still stood motionless.

"Nevulmaiel!"

she wouldn't budge at anything that anyone might say.

"Nevai, give it to him."

Everyone was silent.

Nevulmaiel dropped her sword and ran to a pallet next to the roaring bonfire in the center of the cavern.

"Alakthonion?" she whispered. "Was that you?"

"Aye," he coughing, bringing up some blood.

"Hush," Nevulmaiel said calmly, wiping it away. "Save your voice."

She stroked some of his white hair that hung loose over the pillows. "I wish that you could eat or drink or something to keep you alive..."

"Why can he not?" Glorfindle asked, deciding that is was much better to stay where he was than to go over and try to comfort her.

"His side, for one, and nearly every bone in him is broken," she replied, wetting a cloth, placing it on his forehead. His black eyes sluggishly opened and he tried to smile. He didn't truly succeed, but it was discernable to Nevulmaiel.

"We might be able to do something, if you'll let us," Glorfindle said kindly.

"I don't think we can take him from this spot, whether he can be moved or no."

"Why?"

"If he is gone when Imarátoiel gets back, she shall pass, and their bond is such that when one goes, the other will follow."

"That is only heard of for twins."

"I know."

Imarátoiel smiled as she hefted the deer over her shoulder. They were close to that horrible village, yes, but they needed food. She looked over to Pellagollo, who had two rabbits. She heard another bow-shot and knew another one of her fellows had just shot something. Then she saw a flash of light, and a rolling _boom_ resounded shortly after.

"We should be getting back," she said to her friends as they gathered in the clearing. "It is almost morning."

There was another boom just after she finished, and she heard someone scream in the background. She looked at Nusangaiel and nodded, and she leapt up into a tree to scout out what had happened.

When she came running back, there was a smile on her face. "Fire! In the city!"

All of the Betrayed were overjoyed at the news. A fire! They could go in and plunder what they wanted while the city was worried about that! What luck!

The betrayed put their catches next to a large tree that they would be able to find when they were finished, and they ran to the city, hoping that they would get a fair bounty of goods.

They were right, the citizens were in turmoil trying to put out the raging fires. They were going to be unsuccessful, no doubt._ Good riddance_ Imarátoiel thought as she stuffed her bag with loaves of bread.

Then she heard the fire louder and felt its warmth.

Not good.

She finished what she was doing, but to bad for her, the roof collapsed nearly on top of her. She jumped and rolled out of the way, the flames licking at her unprotected leg.

"Gotta get my sorry hide out of here!" she thought out loud.

Then she heard a scream.

It belonged to someone young.

An Elfling.

She looked over her shoulder and saw a small figure.

She turned around, not even thinking of her actions.

She ran to the child and pulled her into her arms, screaming to Pellagollo and the others to get out of the building as fast as they could. She discerned a few yells, answers, no doubt, and she jumped out of the window, falling two stories, landing on her feet, running into the forest, which was now ablaze, and running home.

She forgot about the Elfling in her arms.

She forgot that the forest was on fire.

All she remembered was that she had to get home and make sure her brother was safe.

Her twin.

Her other half.

As she got to the entrance of the cave, she still ran nonstop.

She got to the final turn before the entrance to her home.

But she couldn't go on.

She slowed.

Falling to her knees.

Black dots swarmed in her vision.

She couldn't hear.

She could barely breathe.

She couldn't breathe.

She fell to her side, gasping for air, and rolled to her back, still clutching something to her chest.

What was it?

What was she holding?

She couldn't think any more.

Footsteps were coming down the corridor.

_What do I care?_

She closed her eyes.

And slipped into oblivion, hoping never to wake again.

Glorfindle, Estel, and another were carefully holding Legolas' cold and limp body up to the slab of stone as Nusangaiel was carefully unlocking the bonds. He was slowly being lowered to a soft pallet to make cleaning and inspection of his wounds easier.

When this was done, Nusangaiel stood by, ready to help if she was needed.

She truly did feel sorry for the elf.

Everyone was silent and still but Glorfindle, who was checking Legolas' wounds, dressing them as well as he may.

The only other sounds she could pick out were the fire, the steady breathing of the many in the room, and frantic, though light, footsteps down the hall.

"What?!" she cried. She ran to the corridor, her footsteps also heard.

Everyone stared at her.

She was running as fast as her feet could carry her.

Estel followed.

Her footsteps had halted. "Imma?" she said, unsure. "Imma? Can you hear me?"

Estel walked over to her. Nusangaiel had a hand laid on Imarátoiel's forehead. Then the two of them noticed the dark grey cloak had a large lump and it moved a little. Estel moved it out of the way, off of the large lump.

What he saw surprised him.

A frightened Elfling clung to the still maiden's fair skin, tiny arms wrapped around her lithe frame. Tears were in her eyes.

"Is she dead?" she whispered.

Nusangaiel and the Elfling looked up to Estel.

He tried to take the Elfling away, but she wouldn't let go her death grip, so Estel worked around her, reluctant to help such a being.

He checked for a pulse, which there was, barely. She was still breathing, as well.

But she was badly burned on almost all of her bare skin, and there was a **_LOT_** of bare skin.

Estel didn't think it to well to move her, but he lifted the Elfling, for Nusangaiel's sake, and Nusangaiel lifted her friend. Small though Imarátoiel was, most of her weight was rock solid muscles.

They went back into the cavern and Nusangaiel carefully took her friend to her bed, not bothering about putting her under the deer-skin blankets.

As soon as Estel put the Elfling down, she looked around at all of the armor-clad elves around her and ran to Imarátoiel's bed, carefully sitting at her side.

Estel sighed and walked over to the white-haired elf, beginning to look over her burns.

Her entire right side, arm, leg, and part of her cheek were badly burnt, needing immediate care. Her long hair was singed, but surprisingly enough; the Elfling that she had saved was in perfect health mot for an old bruise.

As Nusangaiel and Estel were carefully wrapping her in bandages, there were other footsteps down the corridor. Nusangaiel quickly finished what she was doing and walked down the hall, checking who it would be. She came running back and ran to Estel. "It's Pella," she whispered. "He doesn't look as bad as Imma, though, but he can hardly breath."

So, not only Imarátoiel got out alive? U will have 2 c what happens in the next chappie. Hope u like this 1!


	6. Why did this happen?

Chapter 6: Why did this happen?

Nusangaiel carefully laid Pellagollo in his bed. He was gasping for air, coughing from his long exposure to the smoke, and didn't seem to be winning the battle ahead of him. Nusangaiel was trying as she might to comfort him, her calm voice cracking on the edges. Tears were flowing through her eyes.

"Don't worry. You will be alright. Just stay. You have to. Please. For me..." she stared open mouthed at him as his breaths were becoming slower and weaker. Estel looked at her and her desperate eyes.

But Pellagollo seemed to have different ideas.

Then he went quiet.

Nusangaiel placed her ear to his chest and listened. She broke down in sobs, not believing what she was hearing.

Nothing.

Not his breaths.

Not his heart.

Nothing at all.

When she glanced up at Estel, she said between sobs, "He is gone. There is nothing you can do."

She sat with her head resting on his chest, crying even after her tears were gone.

It truly hurt Estel to see the sheer grief on her face.

Without thinking, he got up and sat beside her. She noticed, defiantly, but chose to ignore him.

She looked like she truly didn't care.

He lightly placed his hand on her shoulder, drawing an ounce of her attention away from Pellagollo and to his concerned face.

She smiled a sad smile and looked at him with bleary eyes. "I thank you for what little you have done for us, and if he had heard it, I think that he would agree."

Then it was her turn to do something that she hadn't really thought about.

She sat back up and placed her arms around Estel, something that he hadn't considered she would do either, and he sat motionless for a few moments until he himself joined her solo hug.

"Thank you," she whispered again. She slowly pulled away, smiling with pure kindness.

She closed her eyes and stood, her feet taking her to a trunk near her bed, she opened it.

She took out a fur cloak and put it on, turning around and telling Estel the answer to what he was about to ask. "I have to find them, Estel. They are my family. My sisters. Really."

Estel got up and followed her out into the corridor, and into the burnt forest, for an icy rain had stopped the fires.

They were checking all the charred bodies.

None had survived so far.

Nusangaiel wouldn't let them die.

They couldn't be dead.

She glanced over the bodies, hoping to find a familiar burgundy cape or a dark head.

Well, not hoping to find them among the dead.

"No..." she whispered.

There were two bodies next to each other, and she sat by their sides.

Their faces were burned so badly that they could not be recognized.

Estel walked to her side.

"How do you know?"

Nusangaiel sat in thought for a few moments. Then she checked to see if the right sleeve of one was damaged, and it was not.

"They each always had an eagle feather in their right sleeve. They are each from Thorondor, king of eagles. If they do, it is them."

Nusangaiel slowly, reluctantly, pulled the sleeve up.

A silver-golden feather glinted in the light.

She less reluctantly checked the other body.

There was another feather.

She sat stricken dumb for what seemed like hours.

"How will I tell Imarátoiel?" she whispered as she fell onto Estel's side. Her grief was so great that she hadn't thought of what she was doing. She was deep in Estel's arms before she knew what had happened. Then all her tears spilled out, and she cried herself to sleep.

Estel carefully lifted her as if she were a child, for she did weigh as much as one, and took her back to the cave.

Glorfindle was still cleaning what he could of Legolas' back, trying as he might to gently bandage what he could when Estel returned.

He was carrying Nusangaiel in his arms, weak sobbing coming from her.

Glorfindle honestly did feel sorry for her. She looked so helpless.

Estel laid her in her in her bed and she mumbled something in a pleading voice, turning over.

He shook his head and stood, walking over to Legolas, taking his hand.

"How is he?" he quietly asked Glorfindle.

Glorfindle sighed. "Not truly as well as I could have hoped, but he will be alright, if we tend him carefully."

"The twins?"

"Better than Legolas," Glorfindle said, finishing the bandaging. "But still, they will end up needing plenty of bed rest. Right now, I think we should check you."

Estel knew that it was useless to protest, and reluctantly complied.

Glorfindel checked Estel, and but for a few bruises, he was, remarkably, perfectly fine.

"That's a first," Estel said as he pulled the tunic back over his head.

Glorfindel gave a slight smile, but it soon faded as Elrohir, the less seriously hurt of the twins, gave a slight moan, and his eyes began to focus. Both he and Estel quickly moved to either of his sides.

"Ro?" Estel said quietly.

"Estel," Elrohir whispered. "What happened?"

The young human looked up at Glorfindel, who shook his head no.

Elrohir's eyes jolted wide, as if in fear. "Where is Elladan?" he asked franticly. Estel moved aside and showed the middle son of Elrond his twin.

Elrohir frowned at his brother's pale face. His eyes were closed and he shivered slightly.

"What happened to him?" Elrohir asked again.

Estel looked at Glorfindle again, not sure what to tell his brother.

"You are both hiding something from me, and I know it. What happened?"

Glorfindel sighed. "Not yet, Elrohir."

Elrohir rolled his eyes, and then remembered something.

"What happened to the dark elves that were here earlier?" he asked. "They left to hunt after..." he closed his eyes at the thought of Legolas's screams of pain.

Glorfindle sighed. "All but three are now dead."

Elrohir closed his eyes. "Good. They never should have been here on Arda in the first place."

There was a whimper to his other side, and he turned to see Imarátoiel lying on her pallet, facing him, eyes closed. The little Elfling hadn't moved from where she had firmly planted herself next to her rescuer.

The little girl was worried. That was easy to tell. Her small hand rested on her un-burned shoulder, wishing to give any comfort that she may.

Then the Elfling turned her bright blue eyes to Glorfindle and Estel.

"Will she be okay?" the girl asked, her tone always the same.

Glorfindle gave a slight nod.

Then the Elfling noticed that Elrohir was staring at her.

"What happened to you?" she asked, trying to break the silence.

"We aren't sure," Estel answered for his brother.

Just as they all started talking, Alakthonion awoke again.

He knew that his sister was in danger.

He just wished he could do something about it.

He felt his bond with her slowly fading, and he tried all that he could to hold on to her.

"_I can't hold on... Alakthonion..."_

"_Stay! You must!"_

"_I...can't...I'm too weak..."_

"_You have to stay! For me..."_

A/N: new chappie! Wahooooo!!!!


	7. Hate and Trust

Chapter 7: Hate and Trust

The Elfling was beginning to feel her spirits rise again as she heard something behind her. She turned around and looked at Imarátoiel, who now lay, her breathing becoming quick and shallow.

But she wasn't the only one like this.

Alakthonion was gasping for breath as well, a look of complete concentration on his face.

His lips were moving in silent words.

Elrohir looked at him and gasped.

"He's losing her," he whispered.

Estel quickly got up and went to Imarátoiel's side, taking her slender hand and passing his over her sweating brow.

The Elfling turned all of her attention to her as well, gently running her fingers through Imarátoiel's hair. "Don't worry," she whispered over and over.

Elrohir kept staring at the other twin.

He was closing his eyes tightly and gritting his teeth like he was in pain as well. Odd. He seemed to be getting well.

He slowly sat up and pushed aside the blankets. There were no more open wounds.

"Glorfindle," Elrohir whispered, gently tugging on the other elf's sleeve. He turned and stared in awe at the other of the twins.

Estel placed an ear on Imarátoiel's chest. She was quickly losing this battle.

But then someone laid a strong hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him out of the way. Estel looked at this elf in wonder. His snow-white hair was in a loose ponytail over his shoulder and his black eyes were becoming less dark by the second until they were a deep charcoal grey. He took Imarátoiel's hand from Estel's and laid his hand on the maiden's unhurt cheek.

"Imarátoiel, my sister, come back to me," he whispered, closing his eyes, holding her hand tightly, gently lifting her and holding her to his chest.

As he caressed her face, her breathing slowed and became normal, and she groggily opened her eyes to look the elf holding her. She buried her face into his chest.

"Ai, Alakthonion," she whispered. "You always are here for me..." her full red lips curved in a smile and her twin gently rocked her back and forth until she fell deep into a healing sleep.

Alakthonion gently laid her back down and stood. He turned around and walked to one of the many dark corridors that came to the larger open space.

"Where are you going?" Estel asked him. He didn't turn around.

As he turned a corner and disappeared, his feet took him to the plateau at the top of his home, which, as was hard to tell by looking from the outside, was surrounded by cliffs.

The fire hadn't reached this area, and for an unexplainable reason, no snow or ice ever stayed there for long.

He walked over to a half carven hunk of stone and began to work on the statue.

The figure of a tall elf had already been recognizable at the top, but it was still in the works. Since his body was never found by the betrayed, Zimraâruo's only memorial was this statue.

_Bloody old Elvenking had to end up killing him_ Alakthonion thought. _He'll pay._

As he worked away for what seemed hours, slowly, Zimraâruo began to show through. The three ancient scars over his bad eye were now recognizable. The slight slit on the right side of his top lip was there, showing the stone tooth underneath.

But all that they needed was his sword, which Imarátoiel had managed to get back when Zimraâruo had ordered her to escape.

"_Imma, the second I die, I want you to jump up and get the sword from this orc of a king and hurt him somehow. The shock of that will give you enough time to get away. Don't try to save me. That's an order."_

Those were his last words.

The sword of that Elvenking would be stuck in the ground at Zimraâruo's stone feet, and Zimraâruo's sword would be hooked to his belt.

Alakthonion stood and went to get the two swords. They were both in a wooden chest just inside of the passageway.

As he looked at his finished work, he thought about the others that he would have to begin. He looked over to three blocks of alabaster that were already in place and walked to the smallest, chipping away the rock for Pellagolo's headstone.

The other elf had been gone for hours it seemed.

No one knew where he was but for Nevulmaiel, who had only recently woken. All that she said was, "We shouldn't bother him while he is in his work. He needs to clear his mind and get the use of his fingers again."

Since he had woken, Elrohir had dropped back off to sleep, and this sleep was helping him heal.

Elladan had hardly stirred, but his eyes were open now.

As for Legolas...

His condition was rapidly deteriorating. Nevulmaiel had said that Imarátoiel was the best healer of them all, and before The Betrayed were living like this, she was apprenticed as a healer.

Imarátoiel had been speaking in whispers with Nevulmaiel for quite a while, and the Elfling had fallen asleep leaning on her shoulder. Imarátoiel was absentmindedly running her hand through the dark curls.

"I don't care, Neva, I won't."

"Imma, please!" Nevulmaiel pleaded.

Imarátoiel's gaze hardened. "Since Zimraâruo was killed, I am the captain. I say no."

"Imma, we have no choice."

Both elf maids looked behind them to see the tall handsome figure of Alakthonion standing there.

"We don't have a choice," he said again, stooping down. "I need the two of you to come to me if you're up to it," he said, looking at his sister, waiting for her truthful response.

Imarátoiel smiled. "Yes, Alak, it does hurt."

Alakthonion smiled and placed his hand on her cheek, allowing much of what he had to pass to her. She smiled at him.

"I will be able to get up if you help me," she said. Alakthonion stood and brought his sister with her, but the Elfling woke when no one was there any longer to hold her up and she caught herself just before she hit the ground.

Imarátoiel, now leaning against Nevulmaiel, gave a glance and slight nod to her brother, who reached down and lifted the Elfling from the ground. All of The Betrayed walked to the corridor that Alakthonion had disappeared down the first time. It was so dark that none could see. As they each passed through, they pulled their hoods over their faces.

Elrohir looked at Estel, who shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine," he said.

The Betrayed finally reached the gardens. The Elfling was purely amazed by the statues and trees.

At least fifty statues stood in a circular grove of trees, and each was different, but here and there two stood together. Just like the stones for Nusangaiel and Táraundomewen.

Most all statues had a sword, ax, bow, and or arrow at their feet.

But what was surprising the most was that at some of their feet, lying in the soft grass, was the body of whoever it was.

In total, only twenty-six bodies were there.

Zimraâruo's statue was near the edge of the grove. The Betrayed walked slowly over to this and each stood in memorial silence for their leader.

_Why?_ Imarátoiel thought. _The only brother _I_ have left is Alakthonion. I don't know why I go on. Why do I even hassle?_

Then she finally cried. Those tears that she hadn't hardly ever cried. She had needed to be strong for the others. Not any longer.

The Elfling heard her muffled sobbing and looked up to her grief stricken face. "Who was he?" she asked quietly.

Imarátoiel looked down and gave a weak smile. "He was my oldest brother," she whispered, lifting the child to her arms, smiling at her pure innocence. "I forgot to ask you. What is your name?"

The Elfling smiled. "Gil-loth," she said simply.

All Legolas could feel was pain.

Horrible, excruciating, pain.

But it even surprised him that he held no blame to Imarátoiel.

Why?

Her life had been so hard, she had barely enough to live on, and there were only three members of her family left.

That seemed to be it.

Legolas had been awake for some time, but he hadn't yet opened his closed eyes. He didn't want to be disturbed from any rest that could help him heal.

At this point, Glorfindle was going over his condition with Elrohir, who, Legolas was sure, was hardly able to take such news and not get up and throttle the only three others. Legolas was listening as well.

"All but two ribs are broken, Elrohir. We won't be able to move him for quite some time," Glorfindel said, fear evident in his voice.

Elrohir sighed. "Well, then, Glorfindel, when could we move him?"

"I don't really know. It depends on how fast he heals, if he heals at all, or if he..."

"If he what?" Estel said, joining the conversation.

"If he even survives today..." Glorfindel continued. By his tone, it was easy to tell that he felt horrible having to tell Legolas's closest friends that detail.

That hit hard. Legolas was hoping that he wouldn't say that, but he heard it with his own ears. _No... I can't die now..._

He couldn't die, he wouldn't die. That was a fact. He was trying as hard as he could.

He'd just have to try harder.

At this rate, it seemed Imarátoiel was, rather strangely, almost healed.

Then someone accidentally bumped his pallet, and he let a small hiss escape his lips.

"Legolas?" Estel asked quietly. "You awake?"

Legolas whimpered an answer, since he could hardly achieve anything more.

"Don't worry Legolas," Estel said calmly, taking his friend's hand. "You'll get better. I wish I could take this pain from you, and at the very least take it on me."

_Oh, if you only knew, Estel_, Legolas thought.

_If you only knew..._

A/N: ok, the deal with the twins will be explained later. Anywho, hoped u liked this chappie!!! Hope I got my elvish right. Ok, dudes, so, like, NOBODY is reviewing anymore. But thanx to those who are. Why? Shall I threaten with evil bunny again? Huh? HUH?!?! Well, anywho, I hope that you liked this chappie. I've got three creative writing projects at school, three stories here, a story that I am making for my friends, another story, two stories I am considering posting on another website, I am helping a friend (Nick) with his story that I'll post here for him, and another one i have no idea of where to post, if I post it all, cuz it has such a mixture of Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Halo, the Silmarillion, Pirates of the Caribbean, and my life. Oh Eru, help me...


	8. Truth

A/N: Hey people dudes! How's it going? Here's a new update. Man, this was quick. You don't know how much it helps me to know that you reviewers will be there. Thanx,

So, anyway, let the shockingness begin! and let you all be amazed by some new points behind the history of the Betrayed! I'm not sure if I should keep the more main story from yawl, but heck. I wanna be evil. Enjoy my sweet and evilness!!!

Chapter 8: Truth

Imarátoiel grimaced as Nevulmaiel unwrapped her arm, but looking back, and seeing that the burned skin was recovering well, she smiled. No sooner than a few more days of this and she would be healed.

Legolas was healing also. He was doing quite well for what had happened to him. Imarátoiel stayed as far as she could away from him, and she slept in the gardens every night, along with her brother.

He had used very much of his energy to keep her alive, and she was thankful, but now he was exhausted. It had been five days. He currently slept peacefully in the grass under the willow.

Imarátoiel looked at her older brother. Originally she had had another older brother and an older sister, but her sister had died long ago at the hand of some stupid elf lord. She had never forgiven Elrond.

She gently shoved the clean bandages to her friend and waited for the inevitable sting that would come with the ointment. Life was going back to normal.

Sorta.

Elladan hissed as Glorfindel checked his more badly broken left leg. It was, sadly, possible that he would limp for the rest of his life.

Gently grasping his brother's hand, Elrohir soothed him as he could. He sent a quick glance to Estel, who was soundly sleeping at Legolas's side. Legolas hadn't woken since a few short minutes yesterday, just long enough for a small sip of water, and his condition wasn't improving. He gasped as his twin felt a wave of pain, and trying not to scream he squeezed rather tightly to his hand.

Elladan had his eyes closed tightly in the first place, but he could hardly stand this. When he was well, he'd give that excuse for an elf maid a piece of his mind, and perhaps a piece of his sword.

"Don't worry, Dan," Elrohir whispered in his ear. "Glorfindel is almost done. He just needs to rewrap it, and then it won't hurt."

_Oh, sure it won't hurt_. Elladan groaned.

"Well, it won't hurt as much."

_That's better._

His legs weren't the only injury, though. His shoulder had been dislocated early on, and due to swelling hadn't been set again 'til last night. One wrist was broken and, as his worst injury, so was his hip. He hadn't really moved for some time from the pallet that he was on.

In addition to those, he also boasted many minor cuts, scrapes, a broken finger, a black eye, and countless other bruises. Yes, he was the worst off of the twins.

If that wasn't obvious.

Just as Glorfindel gently set the leg back down, footsteps came from the corridor that seemed to be favored most by The Betrayed. As Imarátoiel stepped through, she didn't look at all like any of the other elves had ever seen her before.

Her once long white locks were loose and had been trimmed of the singed lengths, so now they were only a chin length bob. Two longer braids framed her angelic face.

The gloves that she wore were different ones than before. They were of brown, not black leather, and had small gold buttons.

Her dress, as this was the first time she had worn a dress in any time of these elves seeing her, was jade green satin and silk of the finest make. Her sword was at her hip, no surprise there.

The two things that were in close competition for the most stunning details were that her eyes weren't black anymore but stormy grey and that on the front of her dress, in the center of her chest, was a symbol that only a few could properly claim.

The crest of Finrod Felagund, lord of Nargothrond.

This was something worth asking about.

As Elrohir opened his mouth, she shot an angry look in his direction and gave out a long, shrill whistle, pulling the curtain aside to one of the well disguised rooms and lighting its lanterns.

It looked very similar to a small stable. Imarátoiel shouted up the other corridor where she came from, saying "Are you two coming, or am I going to take Gurth out by myself?" a hearty laugh came from the corridor.

"We honestly wouldn't do that, sister dear. You'd get into trouble eight times your size, as usual." Alakthonion came up behind her and ruffled her hair, laughing. Soon Nevulmaiel joined them.

This was something completely alien to the other elves present.

"Well, you two, don't be idiots and call your horses!" two other whistles rang out from each of them, each a different tone than the others.

Hoof beats came down the hall, but at this point in time, nothing was truly surprising to anyone.

But then the horses came to view.

The first walked to Imarátoiel, standing completely still so as to allow the bridle to be put on. It only glared at the other elves with its huge auburn eyes. It was of a pale color. (A/N: those of you with Bibles, check Revelation 6. there will be some striking similarities)

The horse that walked to Alakthonion was fire red, even to the eyes. It was fitted with a ruby studded bridle.

Nevulmaiel's horse was snow-white. As she took a hunting bow and tested the string, she nodded, seeing that it was adequate. Her horse was completely bare of decoration, still completely stunning in its simplicity.

"We ready, you two?" Alakthonion asked, settling himself in the saddle.

Imarátoiel gave her twin a playful smack on his shoulder. "Noro lim, Gurth!" she shouted, and the horse ran directly to the entrance tunnel. The other two quickly followed. They didn't come back until the end of the day.

When they did return, their horses were heavily laden and their musical laughter was echoing through the stone. Imarátoiel caught her breath and paid no heed to the many eyes boring down on her. Draped over her horse's back were two large white deer that lived in the area. Nevulmaiel's horse carried heavy bags with things that had been salvaged from the village. Alakthonion's horse had orc helmets hooked to its saddle.

"Imma, where should I put these?" Nevulmaiel managed as her laughter subsided.

"Down in the stores, Neva. I myself am going down there. I can't have only one dress for the rest of the season, and I want to read some," Imarátoiel answered.

Then she sort of stopped and looked to her brother as each of them was unsaddling their horses. "Alak, did you ever put that book that Uncle Finny gave me back in the library?"

"Uh...well..." he was looking for an excuse.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me. You lost it?!"

"Well...not...exactly...lost..." he smiled sheepishly.

"Alakthonion, son of Lostinzilion, why in Arda did you lose a book that Lord Finrod Felagu-" she abruptly stopped, immediately remembering the other elves. "Oh, I really didn't mean to say that," she mumbled. "Great going, Imarátoiel. Just wonderful." She hissed something to her brother and turned to walk down a corridor. Alakthonion went down another.

The other elves were, again, quite startled and confused. Estel couldn't stand it. He needed to know what had happened and where they were from. He opened his mouth to speak, but Imarátoiel cut him off. "Come with me, Estel. I guess I have to tell someone," she mumbled to him, turning around and pointing to the path she intended to go down. Estel got up and went with her.

They walked in silence for some time and Estel followed wherever she went down numerous corridors, through a maze of passageways, and into a large room. It was like a huge kitchen, only no one was in there. Sacks of grain and dried fruits and meats were everywhere as well as almost any kind of necessary food that you could think of. Imarátoiel chose one of the bucks and started to skin it.

It was her who broke the silence. "Estel, I know that you are confused. I would also be pleased if you could not repeat anything I tell you now to any of those elves up there. Is this understood?"

He nodded.

"The Betrayed. That is our name. It was the Noldor who betrayed us. They never came for us like they had promised. They broke that promise and left all that we knew to die. They let us _die_, Estel. They let my parents lay forgotten. They are gone. The image of them lying in the mud soaked in their own blood and the rain is forever seared into my memory, Estel. You don't know how hard that is."

He had never considered that. That would have been horrible. Having nothing else to say, he ventured a quiet, "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

She turned her head. "There is nothing that you can be sorry about, Estel. It is all our doings that must be repented. I am the one who is sorry."

Estel nodded. He wanted her to continue but he didn't want her to become angry if he asked. He didn't have to.

"The day it happened was my coming of age. It was the worst day of my life..."

Estel was shocked. The extent of her anguish was hardly able to be marked by him. She had suffered so much that he didn't understand why her soul hadn't departed her body long ago. She just kept driving on, trying to keep with her oath.

As he looked back at the ancient elf, he saw the sorrow in her eyes. Such a maid like her was more suited to dancing with a harp rather than a sword.

They were in the misty garden, enjoying the peace of the night. Imarátoiel's dress blended with the long grass. He realized for the first time how beautiful she must have been as she danced.

She was sitting on a large rock, dangling her feet in the small clear creak that ran through the trees. Silver moonlight shown on her hair and the stars echoed in her eyes. She turned to him and her eyes no longer reflected stars but they were stars, faultless light shining from them, hitting him in a piercing gaze.

She slipped waist deep into the water and stood there, her dress floating about her. Then she took out a small flute and began to play.

When the song had finished, the breeze began to blow and shake the tiny chimes that hung on the trees. Only after this stopped did he feel the urge to speak.

"It's late, Imma," he said quietly. "I think that we'd best be getting back inside." She nodded and walked from the water, and, after smoothing out her skirt, she followed him back inside.

A/N: You like? I hope so. This was fun to write.


End file.
